Page 117 of Blue Jean Summer

Chapter 30

Hayes

“Catherine,” I called as I strode through the house.

After an early-morning ride together, Catherine and I went our separate ways. I had spent most of the day working in the study while Catherine busted her ass before tomorrow’s grand opening for the Learning Cottage. The Friday night bash she had planned was going to be legendary. Even though I wasn’t much for parties, the Wilder Estate was made for celebrations.

Saturday was a different story. Catherine wanted to open up the cottage for the community as soon as possible. The instructors were excited to host a trial day, where kids could come see what the cottage had to offer. While they pitched the program to the parents, Catherine had drummed up volunteers to paint faces, run a craft station, and make ice cream in a bag using milk that had been carefully pasteurized after a generous donation from Blanche the cow.

The cow who had a new home on the estate thanks to Warren Grey had apparently told Catherine her name was Blanche. I had to admit, Dorothy and Blanche made quite the pair.

It was going to be a wild weekend, which was exactly why I needed to find Catherine before the mayhem began.

Friday and Saturday were about showing off her achievements, but tonight was about her.

I cut through the kitchen, where I often found her working beside Hallie, but she wasn’t there. I poked my head into the formal living room where she would curl up at the end of the night with a book. Still no Catherine.

I swung through the rose garden, but she wasn’t there.

I wound around the back of the house to see if the Mustang was parked in its usual spot. It was. Catherine still wasn’t in the kitchen when I slipped into the side door and headed up the stairs to the second floor.

I paused when I passed Lewis’s room. The door was open, and Hallie was in there. Cleaning.

I hung on to the doorframe as I leaned in. “What the hell are you doing, Hal?”

She looked up from the landslide of dirty clothes that poured out of the closet. Papers were splashed across Lewis’s desk, and I was fairly certain that a take-out bag full of furry food growled at me.

“I thought I’d do something nice for Lewis while he’s out of the house this afternoon,” she said from behind a dust mask as she picked up a mug that had petrified coffee remains glued to the bottom. At least she was wearing gloves. “He’s had a time of it lately.” She looked around in dismay. “And things are starting to grow and sprout legs in here.”

“You’re getting a raise,” I muttered as I went next door to see if Catherine was in her room. She wasn’t.

I gave Hallie a salute as I passed Lewis’s open door once again and hollered, “Good luck,” as she started on the desk.

Catherine wasn’t in the garden or in the house, which left the cottage, stables, and pond.

I checked the pond first. No dice. She wasn’t in the stables either. Since the cowboy hat Catherine had given me was back at the house, I grabbed Granddad’s off the nail on the wall, saddled up Maisey, and rode her up to the cottage.

She held her head high, pleased as pie that she got to go on a field trip. She had almost made the entire trip at a respectful, steady pace when she spotted Dorothy and Blanche grazing in the fenced-in pasture. She skipped with glee at the prospect of seeing her bovine friends and nearly bucked me off.

I grunted as I tugged on the reins to get her to slow the hell down. Maisey came to a screeching halt at the fence and plopped her head over, nosing around for Dorothy to come closer.

A sharp whistle cut through the air as I swung my leg over the saddle and dismounted. Catherine poked her head out of the cottage and grinned. “Look at you.” She wagged a finger in my direction. “You’ve got the boots, the hat, and you’re riding a horse instead of driving up here? Looks like I was right. One summer here has turned you into a bona fide cowboy.”

“Mason and Levi would probably beg to differ,” I said with a chuckle as I tied Maisey to the hitching post. “What are you still doing up here? I thought the cottage was done.”

Catherine looked back through the door. “Finishing touches.”

“Show me around?”

Catherine took my hand in hers and laced our fingers together as we walked through the space.

The majority of the cottage was full of worktables that could be separated or pushed together, depending on the need. “Did you start these today?” I asked as I peered into the dirt-filled glass planters that would show root systems when the seeds began to develop.

“How’d you know?” she asked.

I lifted her hand and splayed her fingers. “You have dirt under your nails.” I smirked. “I think there’s a country girl behind the pageant queen.”

Blush painted her cheeks. “Look at us.”